Pretty Little Thing
by SomethingIDontKnow
Summary: Done as a prompt fill, Anon requested a young Will seeing Hannibal and admitting to fantasizing about cross-dressing when he gets off. Hannibal offers him a safe place to be himself. Warnings for: Crossdressing, possible slight underage.


For the Prompt:

(Hannibal Lecter is a child psychiatrist and has been a young (let's say 14) Will Graham's doctor for a year. Will is a particularly guarded child and Hannibal believes that Will is on the precipice of a breakthrough when Will confesses that he fantasizes every night of wearing dresses and other "girly" things.

After Will has a good crying session, Hannibal is struck with an idea that he believes will provide a kickstart for Will's therapy.

With parental consent from Will's parents, Hannibal takes Will to his house for a private session which involves a lovely meal and revealing to Will that he has bought a pretty new dress for him, along with all the amenities (such as mary-janes, panties, stockings, etc) and offers to make Will feel pretty like he yearns to be

Bonus points if Will trusts Hannibal enough to let Hannibal dress him up  
Bonus points if Hannibal becomes horribly aroused by the situation and seduces Will  
Bonus points if Hannibal makes a ceremony out of bedding Will, whose still wearing the dress

also this anon would really really like it if Hanni sweet-talks Will, calling him pet names and such to make Will feel more comfortable)

* * *

It's been a long road to this moment and Hannibal makes a careful image in his memory of Will's delicate fingers twisting in his lap.

"I- I just-" Will bites his lip and looks up at Hannibal through his thick lashes, "You won't tell anyone, will you?" He demands, as he does almost every session.

"You know I would never betray your trust in me." Hannibal says, just as he does every time Will demands it of him, "So long as you do not intend to harm yourself, or anyone else, you have my utmost secrecy."

Will shifts in his seat, taking a shaking breath. His voice is a breathy whimper, "When I- you know, j- jerk off, I- I think about- god," His ears are bright red and his face is hot, "I think about that uniform from my old school. The skirt one. I- I'm wearing it in- in my head." Will is tearing up, his big blue eyes wet and soon overflowing.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of." Hannibal assures him, offering a tissue that Will crumples as he wipes at his blotchy face, "Every person has different tastes, sexually. Your's is simply not vanilla, shall we say."

"My dad would kill me if he ever found out." Will whimpers, gasping as fresh tears wrack him, "First Mom and then a son that gets off imaging himself in girl's clothes! Oh, Hannibal, I couldn't ever tell him, but what if he found out somehow!?" Will curls up on himself and his sobbing increases. Hannibal stands to gather Will to his chest. He's shivering and scarcely able to hold himself upright at times like these, but Hannibal has found Will takes comfort in close contact. It's not very professional, perhaps, but Hannibal has always treated little Will differently than other patients.

Will curls into Hannibal, his slender frame easily enveloped in Hannibal's bulk. He really is a precious little thing, all tender young muscle and milky pale skin. A silken hermaphrodite. Will is usually dressed in worn jeans and flannel button up shirts, a pale echo of his father's forced image of masculinity. He really would look quiet lovely in an airy white sun dress, perhaps with his curls pinned in a prim vintage bob. Hannibal pets Will's hair softly, careful to angle Will away when his cock twitches in interest at the mental image of Will's tender mouth painted in a plush rose petal pink.

Hannibal lets him cry, lets him wear himself out. Will slumps against Hannibal weakly in the end, lets himself be laid back on Hannibal's settee. He's Hannibal's last appointment of the day and his father is usually late to pick him up anyway, so Hannibal spreads a light blanket over him. He tugs the blanket up around Will and strokes his stray curls back. Will blinks tiredly, but manages a frail smile. "I'm sorry." He rasps, "I always seem to cry."

"It's not a problem." Hannibal smiles in return, it's not every session he gets tight lipped Will so vulnerable, "You may stay here until you father comes to pick you up."

"Thank you, so much, Hannibal." Will is already drowsy, but Hannibal has one last push before he's permitted his rest.

"I think this is something you've repressed very harshly." He says, touching Will's forehead lightly, "You need to come to terms with this. With permission from your father, I believe you would benefit from a more private session in my home." Will's eyes widen, but he doesn't move away, still receptive to Hannibal's caress. "We can discuss your reactions as well as the specifics of your fantasy, help you see that it is nothing you need be ashamed of, simply a facet of human sexuality." Hannibal smiles. "I promise you a special dinner as well." With blue eyes wide as he's ever seen them, Hannibal knows he's caught Will attention, as well as his imagination. After a brief pause, Will nods is agreement and Hannibal rewards him with a soft kiss on his forehead. Will flushes and Hannibal encourages him to get a few moments' rest until his father comes to take him home.

—-

Will is asleep when his father comes and Hannibal takes the moment to get permission from his father. Mr. Graham believes his son is traumatized by his mother's absence, is more worried that Will won't be able to get a job if he can't manage his disorder than about his mental health as a whole. He is a pathetic, narrow soul and his main concern is that Hannibal intends to charge him for the extra time. Hannibal assures him that he will not be billed, it's a test of Will's growth as a patient, nothing more. (He's already taken Will as a patient for practically no money, Will's extraordinary empathy providing Hannibal both an invaluable work of art and an inexpensive plaything.)

With Mr. Graham soothed, Hannibal wakes Will. He writes his address, as well as the date and time of their appointment on a fine stationary card he knows Will will treasure and sends him home.

—-

Hannibal lays out all the particulars of his plan on his bed before begining preperations for dinner. He intends for a fairly formal meal, though perhaps something simple, suited to Will's taste. With the oven dialed to keep the meal warm, Hannibal checks his arrangements and doesn't bother to hide the hunger in his grin when the doorbell rings.

Will is wearing decent slacks and a cotton button up. He neglected to slick his hair after his shower so it's a mop of damp curls. His father is using his free night to go out drinking and Hannibal estimates he'll have a minimum of six hours with Will.

Hannibal welcomes him and leads the way to the sitting room. Will tangles his fingers together and he hesitates to meet Hannibal's eyes. "You need to relax, Will." Hannibal murmurs, squeezing his slender shoulder

The small muscles are pulled taut and Will practically melts under the firm pressure. "Just nervous, I guess." Will sighs, "I don't want to do something stupid."

"I'm here to guide you, Will." Hannibal reminds him, bowing to press a kiss to Will's hair, "Nothing that happens tonight will happen without my intending it." Will nods and Hannibal offers a parting pat before making his way to the liquor cabinet. "I think an aperitif might be appropriate, don't you?"

Will watches him curiously until he draws out a bottle. "I- I'm not old enough, Hannibal!" Will protest immediately.

He flushes when Hannibal turns to him with a soft smile. "I don't intend to get you drunk, dear Will." Will takes the glass he's offered hesitantly. "A single glass is hardly enough to get you tipsy."

—-

Will is blushed with the wine and his glass isn't even half empty.

The talk up to this point has been small, easy conversation between friends. But Will has had enough wine and Hannibal's patience is at a end. "Have you considered what we talked about last session?" He asks gently, "Getting comfortable with your tastes as they are?"

The room goes quiet for a beat. Will fingers the stem of his glass and takes a shaky breath. "I-" He takes another breath. "You're going to say I should try it." Will murmurs, "That I should try on the clothes."

"Oh?" Hannibal offers no indication of displeasure and Will walks straight into the trap. "I want to. I think about it all the time." He whimpers, cradling his glass in both palms, "But Hannibal, I can't."

"You can't possibly risk your father catching you in your home." Hannibal finishes for him, "You couldn't bear it if he knew."

Will shakes his head as he tears up, finally setting aside the glass he's been clinging to.

"Your father can't catch you here." Hannibal watches it dawn on Will's lovely features.

"H-here?" He squeaks, "Do it here?"

Will's hands are nervous and tangling again and Hannibal reaches to take them from him. He doesn't say anything, only guides Will to his feet and soothes him with a kiss to the forehead. He leads Will through his home again, up the stairs, to his bedroom.

—-

Will gapes at the spread across Hannibal's bed. A soft white blouse is accompanied by a darker dress to go over is spread over the coverlet, accompanied by a pair of bright white stockings. Black patent leather shoes, classy little Mary Janes, sit beside them innocently. He reaches out and touches the stockings lightly, as if afraid they might only be dream.

Hannibal wraps his arms around Will's middle and rests his chin in Will's shoulder. "A bit cliche perhaps," He murmurs, electing a tiny shiver, "but you were the first person to come to mind when I picked it. I want to make you feel as pretty as I know you are." Will holds to Hannibal's forearms, his knees give out and Hannibal takes his slight weight. "Do you want to try it on?"

Will nods his head dazedly.

—-

Hannibal arranges chocolate curls artfully, adding just the touch of lift Will's hair needs to achieve a feminine quality. He's blushing beautifully, Hannibal carefully ignores the fact Will is aching hard in the silken panties Hannibal chose for him, and the dress fits him perfectly. Around his neck is a fine pearl necklace, an expensive touch, but Hannibal wants his Will in only the best. He doesn't look like a girl, and yet, he's lovely.

"Oh Will." Hannibal sighs with a smile, taking in his young patient, "You're such a pretty little thing." Will is flushed hot and Hannibal pries his arms from around his abdomen. "You're beautiful, Will, don't hide from me." Will bites at his lip, painted in organic strawberry lip gloss, and nods slowly. "Now give me a spin, lovely."

The dress blossoms out when Will whirls on the ball of his new shoes. He's dizzy after his second turn and Hannibal stops him when he starts to giggle. "Thank you, Hannibal." Will grins up at him, his mouth slick and pink, "Thank you so much." He leans up and kisses Hannibal. It's a closed mouth press and leaves a sweet residue on Hannibal's lips.

—-

Will learns how to walk in his kitten heels, unsteady as a newborn foal in the beginning, but soon he picks up an easy sway in his hips. He holds Hannibal's arm as they go back to the dining room, lets Hannibal draw out his chair at the table. Will's voice has never been particularly deep, but it's lighter now, a trace of his southern drawl slicking the edges of every other word.

He takes bites of food from Hannibal's fork and wipes at his mouth daintily, careful not to disturb his make up. Hannibal watches his mouth as he talks, finds his eyes drawn to the flash of patent leather under the table when he returns to the table with desert. Will is sitting with his legs spread, likely intended to keep his napkin from sliding down his knees. Tonight it offers Hannibal an unseemly view. "That is not how a young lady sits, darling." Hannibal says, setting the plate in front of his guest, "Knees together,You feet flat on the floor."

Will blushes into his drink, and turns his toes in, tucking his knees together. "Much better." Hannibal smiles and strokes a hand through Will's hair, receiving a muted murmur in return, "It will get easier with practice."

Blue eyes dart to his face, desperate. "Practice?" Will asks, breathless.

"Of course, pet." Hannibal slides just an inch closer and Will tries to turn into the kiss he presses to his temple, "I don't believe your father will mind having a free night once a week. We can have your sessions here. You can keep the dress, of course."

Will's smile is breathtaking. "Oh Hannibal, yes!" He lunges across the space and this kiss is sloppy with enthusiasm. Hannibal smooths back unruly curls and devours Will's first real kiss, inexperienced and tasting of wine sauce and strawberry lip gloss.

Hannibal doesn't like to leave a meal unfinished, but he decides that just this once, it's a forgivable sin.


End file.
